The Switched Baby Scandal (A Scandals of San Sebastian Novel) (Entangled Bliss) (12 page)

“Perhaps not at that moment. But when I watched you walk away with your hair swinging against your neck I imagined doing this…” His mouth made a hot path along her collarbone. Against her skin he whispered, “And when we played air hockey, I wanted to do this…”

With a sensual touch he skimmed along her bare leg, caressing the indentation behind her knee, then sliding up underneath the edge of her skirt. She rocked against him. An explosion of color burst across her vision as she tightened from head to toe, not daring to breathe. The tense cords in his neck and the flexing of his jaw told her that it was by sheer force of will that he didn’t drag her down to the kitchen floor.

“I’m not done with you yet, Mr. Wallace.”

He groaned. “Are you going to put me out of my misery soon?”

She grasped his hand in hers and pulled him after her. “That depends on you.”

He followed her through the house and up the stairs, where they took a left turn into his bedroom instead of toward the end of the hallway where she and Emily were staying.

Taylor let go of his hand, stepped a few paces toward the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, tugged the panties from beneath her skirt and let them shimmy down around her ankles. She kicked, flinging them at Reece’s chest.

He caught them in one hand, his fingers kneading the warm scrap of silk. His face was dark with desire, making him look all the more enticing to her.

She scooted backward, crawling up onto his bed. He tossed the panties over his shoulder and followed her.

Both of them were kneeling on the bed, fingers eagerly seeking out buttons, zippers, and hooks to free each other from the last boundaries that separated their flesh.

Desire, white-hot and intense, flashed through her like a lightning bolt, leaving her emotions jagged and sizzling.

He pulled back, breathing hard. “Have you got any—”

“Protection?”

He nodded.

She bit her lip. “No, you?”

He flicked his gaze over to the nightstand by the bed. “There might be a few that aren’t out of date. It’s been a while.”

“Right now I’d make do with Saran Wrap. Where are they?”

He reached over to the edge of the bed and pulled open the drawer… “Anything else I can get you?”

Taylor gave him a seductive smile. “Absolutely.”

Much later, after he’d blown her world into a million shimmering pieces and left her thoroughly worshipped, he fell to the mattress beside her and groaned, “What have you done to me?”

She laughed. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. I haven’t felt this good…ever.”

He propped himself up by one arm and looked down into her face. His pupils were huge and dark, making his eyes seem black. He traced the edge of her face with infinite tenderness and gave her a soft smile. “You are truly one of a kind,” he murmured, then leaned forward to gently brush his lips against her forehead in a kiss.

Radiating warmth built of pure pleasure and contentment wrapped itself around them. She snuggled up next to him. They lay together, resting against each other as sleep claimed them.

…

He woke in the black of the night. The scent of Becca’s perfume filled his senses and he felt her warmth beside him.

No. It couldn’t be. She was—
dead
. In a flash, his skin turned clammy and cold.

My God, what have I done?

He’d not only made love to Taylor, but in the very bed where he had slept with his wife. Fury and guilt devoured him. Despite all his efforts to be faithful to Becca, he hadn’t been able to control his all-consuming desire for Taylor.

What was wrong with him? How could he forget Becca like that? What would Taylor think of him? He knew how badly he thought of himself at the moment. And what about the court case. Perhaps she was hoping if they slept together he’d drop the custody case. But he needed to see it through to take care of Emily. What would she think when he didn’t back down? Would she hate him all the more or feel like he’d taken advantage of her?

He felt her shift beside him under the sheets, her smooth leg rubbing against him. He went deathly still. Even as he tried to rein in his physical response he was growing hard for her again.

He couldn’t, wouldn’t, be in a mutually friendly, physical relationship again with a woman whom he didn’t love in return. It hadn’t been fair to Becca, and it wouldn’t be fair to Taylor. She deserved someone who’d commit to a lifetime of loving her, not just being insatiably aroused by her. When it came to women, love was a four-letter word he couldn’t do, not here, and definitely not now. Not when he screwed up so badly before. He was still too riddled with survivor’s guilt to be any good in an adult relationship like this, and he didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as Taylor.

No matter how physically attracted he was to her or how good the lovemaking between them had been, he wouldn’t tread that route again, especially with Emily in the equation. He had to keep his wants and needs out of this and think of Emily.

There was only one way to solve this.

He had to put some distance between them.

He took one last look at Taylor, her hair spread around her like a golden halo on her pillow, then gently slipped out of the bed so as not to disturb her.

…

Taylor awoke in the early dawn, alone in Reece’s bed. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, taking a luxurious stretch. Reece must have gotten up earlier to make coffee, as he did every morning. She padded down the hall, buck naked, to her room where she retrieved a pale blue satin bathrobe. It felt cool against her skin and rubbed against her sensitive nipples. She’d been dreaming about Reece. Now she wanted to find him.

What happened last night was totally unexpected. She hadn’t planned on getting intimate with Reece, and certainly hadn’t anticipated sleeping with him.

She blushed. Planned or not it had been terrific. Emily and her mother wouldn’t be back until late in the afternoon. If she could find Reece, perhaps she could convince him, and herself, last night wasn’t a fluke. She walked downstairs to the kitchen, where last night’s dinner had all been put away, but it was also empty, except for the inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Disappointment nipped at her, but she brushed it off. He’d probably just gone out for doughnuts or the paper. She went to the cupboard and pulled down a mug and filled it with the hot, dark brew, then fished a spoon out of the drawer and dumped in two heaps of sugar from the crystal bowl.

She took a sip and licked her lips as she walked from room to room looking for him. The house was too quiet, and it began to unnerve her. She chastised herself for acting like a lovesick schoolgirl mooning over some guy she idolized. But wondering where he was still nagged her. Her ears perked up at the crunch of gravel from the drive, and she looked out one of the windows in the dining room to see Reece pulling his car into the garage.

Any lingering doubts were drowned out in desire. She smiled to herself, wondering if she should greet him naked. Opting for half-clad, she stood in the doorway and loosened the sash of her bathrobe so that it hung open enough to reveal slightly more than it concealed.

…

Reece walked in, his burden of guilt still heavy despite his early morning visit to Becca’s grave. All thoughts of what he was going to tell Taylor fled his mind when he looked up to see her leaning in the doorway, barely wearing the ice-blue satin that clung to her skin and was sheer enough to be backlit by the morning light.

He swallowed, reining in the instant rush that hit his blood. The little devil on his shoulder said to grab her, take her back to bed, and spend the day pleasuring them both. The angel reminded him of his duty to Emily and his confused emotions regarding how to fit both Becca’s memory and Taylor’s presence into his life.

He strode up to her. She leaned into him, and Reece stopped her with his hands before she got too close. The warm, bare skin under his fingers was driving him insane. He blew out a frustrated breath and jerked his hand away as if it burned. Instinctively assuming that she wouldn’t understand his inner turmoil, he tried to keep his warring emotions hidden from her by appearing neutral and unaffected by her seduction.

Taylor stared at him, her eyes questioning his reaction to her.

“As beautiful as you are, I just can’t right now.”

Her demeanor turned from soft and sultry to wounded in an instant. Her open display of shock and pain slapped him in the face, and he regretted the words the moment they’d slipped out of his mouth. She shrugged the bathrobe back around her shoulders and tied the sash with a vicious tug. He felt like a heel but didn’t know how else to handle the moment. He was trying to protect them both from things getting any more complicated.

“So it was just a one-night fling, was it?” She lifted her chin a notch.

“I didn’t say that, Taylor.” He stepped past her, attempting to leave the room before he doubled back on his promise to keep his distance until his feelings about their possible relationship were sorted out.

“Even if you didn’t, that’s what you meant,” she shot at his back.

“I can’t do this right now, and neither can you. We’ve got to think of Emily first.”

She wasn’t even listening to him as she continued, “Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.”

He turned around and glared at her. “I’ve never treated a woman that way in my life.”

For a moment her bottom lip trembled. “You just did.”

She stalked out of the room and up the stairs, slamming the door to her room behind her.

Chapter Eleven

Taylor was furious. Furious at herself for letting emotion ride sway over reason, furious for not trusting her own hard-won experience with men, and furious because in a blinding instant she knew exactly why he had done it. He was trying to toy with her emotions—keep her off balance enough so she’d lose focus regarding his future custody plans for Emily because she’d be too confused and hurt to look beyond her own heart. If he could get her emotionally tangled up, then he thought she’d willingly go along with whatever he wanted as long as he made it sound good and ultimately for Emily’s benefit. Michael had used her at his whim one too many times, trying to convince her it was for her own good, and she knew the game. And this time she wasn’t willing to play—not with Emily at stake.

“I’ve seen some dirty tricks in my time but, Reece Wallace, you are by far the biggest—the dirtiest—the…” She stopped sputtering and landed in a sobbing heap on the bedspread.

A half hour later, when she had spent her tears, Taylor took a deep breath and realized that she had to leave. He’d approach her again—seeking to make up, with lots of logical explanations for his behavior. That had always been Michael’s next step. The truth was he didn’t want her—he only wanted Emily, and she was a means to an end. She couldn’t stay here under his roof with this kind of pressure and physical attraction simmering between them. He’d hurt her; deep down she’d given him access to the part of her she’d been keeping protected. In the last few weeks she’d gotten a glimpse of what it would be like to be a real family, and she now knew she wanted more from him than he could give. As soon as Emily’s birthday party was over, she and Emily were leaving his home, even if she had to pass the news van that seemed permanently parked outside Reece’s gate to do so.

Taylor got up and pulled off her robe before slipping on underwear, bra, jeans, and a T-shirt. She went to the closet and yanked out her suitcases and started packing. Halfway through the second suitcase there was a soft rap at the door.

“I’m not interested in talking about it, Reece. Go away.”

“It’s me, dear,” called her mother’s familiar voice. The door swung open and Edith walked in, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Taylor shuddered. Her mother was back early. It was a good thing Reece had brushed her off when he did or they’d have been in the midst of the wild thing when—Taylor didn’t want to think about it.

“Looks like you’re doing some packing.”

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the woman with the gift for stating the obvious
. Taylor grimaced. “Umm humm.”

“But where are you going?”

Taylor whirled around. “Home.” She then went back to tossing things into the open suitcase.

“But why?”

“Mother, please just trust me. Emily and I aren’t wanted here anymore.”

Her mother gave her “the look.”

“That’s not what I saw when Emily and I came home. Reece seemed overjoyed to see her.”

“Yes, I’m sure they had yet another wonderful bonding experience.” Taylor realized the sarcasm in her tone was just a result of the discomfort the situation was causing her.

“What happened? And not the sugarcoated, what-you-think-I-want-to-hear version.”

Taylor slumped down on to the bed. “I slept with him.”

Her mother’s face brightened. “Is that all? Why that’s wonderful.”

“No, it’s not!” Taylor slapped her hand on her thigh. “He is just using me to get to Emily. Don’t you see that?”

Her mother had moved over to her suitcase and was gingerly taking out her clothes and putting them back in the dresser. “I don’t think Reece would do anything of the kind.”

“Mother!” Taylor yanked the clothes out of her hand and threw them back at the open suitcase. “Emily and I are leaving right after her birthday celebration.”

Edith’s eyes fluttered and she pouted. “Oh, now that’s really terrible of you. All night long, all she could talk about was how she was going to have her first birthday with the two of you, and all you want to do is carry on this petty squabble and ruin it for her.” Edith lifted her chin. “Well, I won’t let you break her heart. Besides, where will you go?”

“We’ll go back to the condo.”

“Where the television cameras can get a great picture of your baby on her fifth birthday to spread all across the evening news? That’s a brilliant strategy. Why don’t you just invite them in for the party, too?”

Taylor bit her lip. “I see your point. We’ll just go home with you.”

“Afraid that isn’t going to work, either. I’m letting the Metzgers house-sit for me starting next week while I’m in Arizona for two months.”

Taylor sighed. Nothing was going to be easy in this.

Edith smiled. “I’m sure you and Reece can come to an amiable understanding over this for Emily’s sake. Although, for the life of me, I can’t see why you shouldn’t just kiss and make up…”

“He isn’t interested in me, Mother. He said so.”

“Fiddle-faddle. I don’t believe a word of it, and neither should you. He moons over you all the time when you aren’t looking.”

Taylor rolled her eyes. There was no reason to drag her mother and her bizarre reasoning into this mess any further.

“Fine. We’ll stay, but I’m not going to suck up to him or pretend it didn’t happen.”

“No one asked you to, did they?” Edith bent down and gave her daughter a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you downstairs. We’ll be singing happy birthday and cutting the cake in about half an hour.”

Her mother walked out of the door as quietly as she had come in. Taylor flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
What on earth have I done to deserve this?

…

In less than an hour they gathered downstairs around Emily. A rainbow balloon bouquet, pink-flowered party tablecloth, and a small stack of brightly wrapped packages marked the dining room as birthday headquarters. Taylor glared across the table at Reece, but he refused to meet her gaze. He swore the temperature in the dining room had to be easily ten degrees cooler.

The situation was not lost on Emily. She sat at the end of the table, facing her birthday cake. Reece noticed her dark eyes darting at both of her parents on opposite sides of the table. She looked directly at her grandmother and gave a wink. Edith tried not to snicker. Reece tried to ignore it. Emily leaned over her cake and blew out her five flickering candles.

Edith snapped yet another picture. “What did you wish for, honey?”

“I wished me and Mommy and Daddy could all live together forever.”

They both looked at Emily. Emily glared back at each of her parents, and Reece had the oddest sensation of being chastised by a five-year-old.

“If you aren’t going to play nice, then you should go to your rooms until you can behave,” Emily added as an afterthought.

Taylor’s mouth dropped open.

Reece dropped to his knees and put his big hand over Emily’s much smaller one. “Emily, I don’t think your mommy is very happy with me at the moment, and I can’t say that I blame her. It’s really my fault, so don’t be mad at her.”

Her little brows pinched together. “Why is Mommy mad at you?”

He looked up at Taylor, pleading for an out.

Taylor firmly pressed her lips closed, crossed her arms, and gave him a snide look.

Edith broke in, saving him from it getting any worse. “Emily, how about we open presents?”

Emily’s eyes blazed with five-year-old indignation. She mimicked Taylor, crossing her little arms in front of her. “I’m not opening presents until they promise to be nice. If they won’t, then I don’t want either one of them here.”
Great.
He was father-of-the-year material, ruining his daughter’s first birthday with him.

He didn’t miss the look of satisfaction that flitted across Edith’s face. He stood up and locked gazes with Taylor.

“I’m sorry for earlier today. I wish I could explain it to you, and I’ll try to…later. Truce?” He reached across the table to shake on it.

Taylor stared at his hand for a moment, then briefly glanced at her glaring daughter before she spoke. “Truce.” She still didn’t take his hand, and he felt like an idiot for holding it out in the empty air. He dropped his hand to his side.

Emily beamed. “There. Now we can open presents and eat cake!”

Reece sank back into his chair. He’d hurt Taylor and hadn’t a clue how to fix it. He hadn’t hurt her intentionally, but his need to protect himself had backfired drastically. The pain of seeing Taylor hurt and Emily mad was worse than he’d realized. He wanted them to be a family, but he wasn’t ready for the kind of friendship-inspired, lifelong commitment that Taylor deserved. Why couldn’t she see he needed time and be okay with that? He needed to know if there was more between them than just Emily…something that would hold them together in the long run…and that loving her wouldn’t dishonor Becca and Alyssa.

…

For the rest of the day, Reece and Taylor spoke nothing more than civil comments to each other, and those were few and far between. Most of the conversation revolved around Emily.

By that night, Taylor’s nerves were frazzled. Every time she looked at him, her skin began to smolder both with the heat of her anger at being pushed aside by a man and her attraction to this man in particular. It was a heady combination. She wanted him yet he didn’t want her. And it hurt.

As she went about the routine of tucking Emily into bed, Taylor thought about how Reece had her made her feel things she had never experienced before, and then, in less than twenty-four hours, denied her access to them ever again. While he’d been polite during Emily’s party, he’d also been distant, looking away every time she caught him staring at her.

“Mommy?” asked Emily in a sleepy voice.

“Yes?”

“We’re going to stay here, aren’t we?”

Taylor bent down and gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead. “Yes, for now.”

“What about always?”

“I can’t promise that. We don’t know what’s going to happen, we may go back to our house soon.”

“Without Daddy?”

Taylor fidgeted and sighed. There was no easy way to answer Emily. She gently tucked the covers around her daughter.

“Good night, Emy.”

…

For the next few days Taylor managed to avoid Reece, except at dinner, by throwing herself into her work. He knew she was worried about the grand reopening of The Anchor Hotel being a success. Sketches of the lobby and guest rooms and samples of carpet, floor tiles, fabric, and paint-sample chips seemed to have exploded over his living room. Neither of them had spoken about what had happened, but it hung in the air, creating an uncomfortable space that was beginning to wear on them all. A time or two he’d tried say something, but had always stopped himself and walked away when the words wouldn’t come out right. And without Edith around as a buffer, it was only getting worse. He couldn’t stand the silent treatment any longer and was aching to smooth things out.

“Taylor, we need to talk.”

“I don’t have time,” she said, picking up the plans for the lobby.

He held her soft shoulder in a firm grasp as she tried to turn away. “Yes, you do.”

She shifted her weight to one foot and deliberately shook off his hand, making him feel stupid for even touching her.

“You know neither of us is ready for a relationship like this, so why are you placing the blame on me?”

“So it was just a mistake for you?”

Ouch.
That obviously hadn’t come out the way he intended, but he was fighting too many emotions at once: guilt, attraction, anger, fear. “I didn’t say that.”

Taylor crossed her arms over her chest, fighting back tears. “Then what exactly did you mean to say, Reece? Explain to me how the greatest night of sex in my life becomes so embarrassing to you that you can’t even stand to look at me or touch me less than twenty-four hours later.”

He raked his hands through his hair and cupped his hands behind his head. “There’s more involved here than raging hormones. Hell, yes, I want you again—I want you right now—but I’m not taking any more chances. I don’t want to screw up the rest of our lives, or Emily’s. I’m trying to do the right thing. For all of us.”

She pressed her lips firmly together and lifted her chin. “No one asked you to make decisions for all of us. I was capable of making them for myself before you came into our lives and I’m just as capable now. If you weren’t interested in more than a one-night stand, then at least you could have told me. I think you’ve made it pretty clear that taking care of Emily is about as far as you want any relationship between us to go.” She turned on her heel and ran up the stairs, leaving him feeling empty and defeated.

…

Since their failed attempt at smoothing things over, Emily’s conversation ruled the table. Reece and Taylor responded to her, but said little to each other. From time to time, Taylor would catch Reece looking at her with something deep and gut-wrenching shadowed in his eyes. For a moment her heart would double bump hard in her chest, but she suppressed every instinct to open up to him. She didn’t want to be hurt again.

At work her focus was off because of it. Mrs. Applebaum had approved the curtains for her living room, but when they arrived, she’d declared the color all wrong. It was something Taylor should have picked up on, given the lighting in the room. But the fact was, her head wasn’t screwed on straight and she was having difficulty concentrating. She had to accept the fact that Reece didn’t want a relationship with her that extended beyond Emily.

While driving back from checking on the progress at The Anchor, her cell phone rang, jarring her thoughts. Taylor tapped the hands-free button and heard her secretary, Jane.

“Sorry to spring this on you, but you have a last-minute lunch appointment. It’s a new client and he said he’d like to meet you at the Seafarer.”

It was convenient, since she was less than a block away and had fifteen minutes until noon.

“How will I know him?”

“He said he’ll be in a suit and have dark hair.”

Taylor groaned. “That could describe half the businessmen on the West Coast. Didn’t he give you anything more?” she said as she turned into the restaurant parking lot.